


Ineffable- Chapter 3

by SoldiersWar



Series: Ineffable [3]
Category: Avengers, Bucky Barnes - Fandom, Captain America, Captain America Civil War, Captain America the Winter Soldier, Marvel, Winter Soldier - Fandom, hydra - Fandom, the winter soldier - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-06-08 22:25:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15253374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoldiersWar/pseuds/SoldiersWar





	Ineffable- Chapter 3

8 years ago  
Out of all the ways I had anticipated my life to turn out, I never thought that this would be the course I would take. I never imagined even two months ago that everything I was about to experience was even possible. It all felt like a dream. Not a good dream, but not necessarily a nightmare. I was scared but excited about what the future would bring me. Maybe I would finally be important, and be someone who was useful. Not only to the ones around me but to the world.  
I looked outside my window of the private jet overlooking the blue sky, and the tiny buildings below me. I was always amazed at how, simple, and utterly still the world looked from up high. As if all of anyone’s problems or world complications were erased through a bird’s eye view.  
It had been a month since my father died. A month since my entire world had turned upside down. A month since I had officially become completely alone in the world.  
My father and I weren’t close. He was often very cold and distant. At least, he was until we were at public appearances with whatever girlfriend he had at the time. Those were the times where he’d tried to show himself to be the model father to all single men of rich society. I was always on to that bullshit, but I played along like a good little daughter. At least he was paying for top of the line ballet training.  
I never really understood why he was always so distant, but I always suspected that it was because I looked a lot like my mother who had died when I was only four years old. From what I understood, he never recovered from her death at all. He could barely talk about her unless he had a full glass of Scotch in his hand.  
I, of course, didn’t remember her, but I remembered flashes of her. I remembered her long black hair that was almost identical to mine covering my face when she leaned over to hug me, or how warm her arms felt when they were wrapped around my small frame to comfort me when I was sad, or scared. But other than that, and the few photos I saw of her, that was all I really knew about her. That she was a wife, a mother, and that she was dead. I couldn’t even remember her voice anymore.  
So, there I was. A 16-year-old ballet dancer who had no parents, more money beyond my own understanding, and legally allowed to do whatever the hell I wanted. But unlike most 16-year-olds, I thought I knew exactly what I wanted in life. I was on my way to being a top-notch ballet dancer.  
I had been trained in the art of ballet since I was 5 years old. I was the best in my school, and I was very close to being accepted into professional ballet companies across the country in the next year or so. My life was set. I knew what I wanted, and I knew that I was going to get it. This was all until the day of my father’s funeral. The day that everything changed.  
I stood silently over the graves of my parents. My father’s grave just having been covered with fresh dirt, and my mother’s who’s grave was covered 12 years ago. All of the guests had cleared out from the burial, and I was the only one left.  
I didn’t know what to think anymore. I wasn’t sure about whether or not I wanted to cry, stay still in this very spot, or just go back home to my large, empty New York hotel room.  
Standing where my parents would lay for the rest of my life, I couldn’t help but think. I wished that I had been more important. I wished that I could have been someone who made my father proud. He never really disapproved of my dancing, but I could tell that he wished I could have done something more important with my time. That it was just a phase in my life and I was going to do something big with my life. I wished that I still had a mother. I wished that she could have been there to tell me what to do, and give me motherly advice. That I wasn’t just raised by the nannies that would stick around for no more than a year before my father eventually slept with them in a drunken stupor. I wished that I didn’t feel just as alone at that moment as I did when my father was alive.  
I had always tried to maintain my composure so as to look like I always knew what I was doing. Especially in the past week since my father’s sudden death. Everyone wanted to know about what was next for the daughter of Andrew Dalton. ‘Will she take over his company when she’s old enough? Will she continue her life as a dancer?’ Those were always the questions surrounding me nowadays. And of course, I always remained polite. I’d told them that I would continue my life as normal. I was just legally on my own now.  
I hated the fact that my life was on display to a bunch of self-entitled rich people and their wives to gossip about. This wasn’t just some dumb tabloid; this was my life. I was a real living, breathing person. And during that day I realized that I knew more about what it was like being a person at 16 years old than they ever would in their middle-aged years.  
I leaned over my mother’s gravestone with one hand resting on the top of the rough, stone surface. I can’t say that I was thinking about her so much, but for some reason being near here, her headstone lay gave me a sense of comfort.  
“What are you thinking about?” A familiar voice came from behind me. I didn’t even know anybody was even near me.  
I quickly stood straight again. It was Alexander Pierce. He was an old friend of my fathers, so I had known him my entire life. I couldn’t say that I cared for the guy’s constant presence so much, but I was easily able to brush it off. He may have been a good friend of my father’s, but to me, he was just someone who would show up to my house to have many business meetings, lunches, and dinners that I, of course, had to tag along on sometimes. I never really understood what they would talk about behind closed doors, or why they were so secretive. But then again, I never really cared enough to spy on them and find out.  
He had a daughter who was almost a year older than me. This girl hated me. She always glared at me as if I had stabbed her mother and never apologized for it. There was also something different, and peculiar about her that I could never quite put my finger on. It was almost as if she was way beyond her years, and she had seen things that nobody could really understand. I certainly didn’t.  
“I was just um…Going back home…Or my hotel room.” I stuttered, being slightly annoyed that I had to have another one of those same funeral talk conversations. This day was exhausting, and I just wanted to go home and watch some TV.  
“Thank you again for coming, it would have meant a lot to my father. You were obviously good friends.” I had repeated for what seemed like the 800th time that day before turning around and heading back to the limo I had waiting for me.  
“Scarlette…Wait.” He stopped me right in my tracks before I could take another step.  
I turned around, knitting my brow directly into his gaze. I was half expecting him to offer me a ride back to my home to Washington on his jet, and I was fully prepared to decline. But what he said next was something I was unprepared for.  
“I need to talk to you about something very important…It’s something that your father didn’t want you to know about until you were 18, but I think it’s time you knew.”  
At this point, I was even more confused. My father barely had anything to say to me. Much less want to let me know something important. I may have been tired, but I was intrigued.  
“Go on,” I said firmly.  
He looked around and made sure that we were completely alone in the large cemetery, and signaled me to walk next to him.  
“What if I told you there was an organization…A whole world that you didn’t know existed.”  
…  
That was how I was introduced to Hydra. He had explained to me that both of my parents had been part of this organization, and that’s how him, Andrew, and my mother had known each other for so long. My father was a considerably prominent figure in many of the divisions, which honestly surprised me. Which explained the move to Washington from New York not too long after my mother had died. I had no idea about any of the things he had been doing…Which had been a lot. Of course, that was probably how they had kept this secret for so long.  
I wasn’t sure at first. I just wanted to end the conversation. But the more Alexander brought me into that world, and what they were trying to accomplish, I became more and more intrigued to the point where I was finally convinced. I began to trust him. He spoke to me as if I was his daughter, but not like I was a child either. He had somehow convinced me to leave the life I always knew, and follow in the footsteps of my parents in just a matter of a few days. I would no longer be a dancer. I would no longer be just a spoiled little rich girl. I now had a secret. A big secret and I was now going to be a part of that secret.  
“We’re almost there.”  
Alexander sat next to me. I took a deep breath as I turned over to the two other men that were in the jet with us. They were familiar faces to me, but they were also big Hydra leaders coming to check on the training facility that they were taking me to in Saint. Petersburg, Russia. It was an underground school where they trained many people my age to become fantastic agents in no time.  
“You’re going to have to learn Russian.”  
“It’s fine.” I sighed, taking a sip of the champagne that the stewardess handed me moments ago.  
“I already know three languages.”  
Alexander chuckled at my passive remark.  
I took a deep breath as the plane began descending. We were close, and although I was sure that this was what I now wanted for myself, I was still nervous. This had now become real, and my life had felt anything but that up until this point.  
“You know, once you step into that school,” said Alexander, noticing my sudden nervousness. “There’s no turning back…Are you ready for that?”  
I turned to him, narrowing my eyes as if he was challenging my judgment.  
“Yeah…I’m ready.”


End file.
